


Odds Are...

by crazyhomoinspace



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:06:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7639567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyhomoinspace/pseuds/crazyhomoinspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Statistics show that surgery is the one of the hardest professions in the world.. but Shuuhei Hisagi, Renji Abarai, Momo Hinamori, Izuru Kira, and Rukia Kuchiki are determined to defy the odds. [medical drama!au] [pairings inclue ichiishi, byaren, and many more..]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hello, everyone! This story is a long, long time in the making. I wasn't even sure I wanted to upload it! But, I figured I might as well..
> 
> This story might feature a large cast and some less-than-canonically-plausible pairings. Bare with me! They will make sense in context of the fic.
> 
> Please leave reviews!

The beginning of a new year brought the scent of fresh blood. He stood under the arched entrance of the hospital, white coat hardly protecting him from the chill of the Northern wind. In his short time at Shin'o Memorial Hospital, the young doctor had seen his bumbling peers succeed, and his mentors crash and burn, bright stars fading into the night.

So where would he stand?

It had been a mere four years since he'd donned his white coat and clipped his pager to his belt. Four years. It felt like an eternity, but what could be established in four years? He'd grown roughly two feet of hair, perhaps. He'd logged hundreds and hundreds of hours in the Operating Room. He'd saved hundreds of lives.. but dozens more had slipped out of his hands. Was he really prepared to impart his knowledge upon the next generation of surgeons?

"You're doing it again."

The young doctor snapped out of his thoughts, interrupted by a familiar voice, and an equally familiar smirk.

"This happens every year, Ishida. You have a little panic attack about being responsible for the idiocy of others. Then you get your interns, that superiority complex kicks back in full force, and you kick ass."

"...Thank you for your vote of confidence, Dr. Kurosaki," Uryuu said with a chuckle, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck. "All I'm saying is that Yamamoto didn't make you Chief Resident for nothing. You're the best we've got."

"Oh? What about you?" Uryuu retorted. Ichigo ruffled the hair on the back of Uryuu's head.

"Didn't want it."

Uryuu smirked and gave an accompanying eye roll. "By 'didn't want it,' you mean 'Just happy that Dr. Jaegerjacques didn't get it?'"

"You know me so well," Ichigo purred.

"He's a very competent doctor, you know. Very enthusiastic."

"One of his interns jumped ship in the first three months to become a goddamn prosthetist, Uryuu."

"...Point taken."

The pair of doctors entered the hospital, beelining to the elevator. The surgical floor was going to be a whirlwind of activity. Not that it wasn't usually, but the arrival of new interns was always chaotic. Overzealous, cocky interns didn't mesh well with overinflated, cranky residents and attendings. Uryuu was just thankful that he'd managed to get a full night's rest.

He opened the door to the intern locker room slowly, not wanting to further rattle the group of nervous bunny rabbits that were sure to be inside. He held his clipboard at hip-level, nudged his glasses up, and looked at the group of interns.

"Dr. Renji Abarai?"

The first to stand did so with a jump, like a flame jumping to the sky. And 'flame' was certainly the right descriptor. The young man was tall and built strongly, red hair tied tightly. Judging from the smirk on his heavily tattooed face as he approached, Uryuu knew that he'd have to keep an eye on that one.

"Dr. Momo Hinamori?"

The girl who stood seemed quiet, and hardly made eye contact with him as she fell into line behind Dr. Abarai. They seemed to be fairly friendly, at least, as Renji reached out and offered to shake her hand. Her smile was bright and relieved. She had an innocent beauty about her. She worried him.

"Dr. Shuuhei Hisagi?"

Nobody rose. The occupants of the room looked around, and began to whisper. Oh well. It was no business of his.

"Settle down," he said sternly. "Dr. Izuru Kira?"

A nervous-looking blonde joined his line, and was greeted by a smile from Dr. Abarai. Had he made connections early, or was he overly friendly?

Uryuu took a second to focus on the next name. "Dr. Rukia Kuchiki?"

The girl looked exactly like he thought she would. She was short in stature, but held her head high as she stood behind Dr. Kira in line. Maybe Dr. Abarai wasn't the one to watch?

"Come with me," he said gently, leading the line of interns down the hall to the nurse's station. "My name is Dr. Uryuu Ishida. I am a fourth year resident, and I am incumbent chief resident. I'd like to take this moment to share with you my rules. These are not the hospital's rules, but they are mine. I suggest following them to keep me happy. Happy resident means happy interns. Unhappy resident means interns who get to hold clamps and sign charts until their hands fall off. Are we clear?" he asked.

The interns nodded wordlessly.

"Excellent. My first rule is-"

"WAIT! WAIT! Wait, I'm- fuck. I'm here!"

Uryuu's eyes narrowed as he turned, spotting a young man running toward him in what had to be a full sprint. He skidded to a stop in front of them, narrowly avoiding bowling over Dr. Hinamori and Dr. Kuchiki. Uryuu simply sighed as the man rubbed his tattooed cheek and ran fingers through his short, choppy black hair.

"Dr. Hisagi, I assume?"

"At your service. Sorry. There was an.. a thing in the-"

"Save it. Join the rest. You're just in time." He looked at Dr. Kira. "Dr. Kira, what would would you imagine to be rule number one?" he asked, nose raised slightly.

"...Be punctual?" came the meek response.

"Excellent instincts," Uryuu stated, looking at Dr. Hisagi. "If you are late, you do more than anger your resident or attending. You also risk the life of your patient." The group nodded in understanding.

"Rule number two is to understand your place. You are interns. You don't have input. You do, however, have opinions. I suggest running them by me first. Nine times out of ten, all you're going to spout is unintelligible nonsense." He led them down the hall, stopping at a room and producing five pages from his pocket. He handed them out while he spoke.

"This is the on-call room, which brings me to rule number three. Knock. This preserves your eyesight, and avoids concussion, depending on who's in there." The look of confusion on his interns' faces made him smirk. He opened the door with a thud. Inside were two sets of bunkbeds, a television, and a desk. On the bottom bunk of the nearest bed, a mass of white hair moved, and a blanket was pushed aside.

"...Is that a child?" Dr. Kuchiki asked incredulously. Uryuu hushed her.

The man in the bed rose, and couldn't stand any taller than four and a half feet. He had a stern look on his face, and looked to be grumpy by nature, as well as pissed off about his ruined nap.

"You. Give me five reasons for post-operative fever." He pointed at Izuru.

"Uhh..."

"No. You." He pointed at Momo.

"Water, Wind, Walking, Wounds, and… wonder-drugs?"

"Meaning what? You're going to tell a patient they can't leave because they have 'wind?'" Brow raise.

Shuuhei bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Water is a UTI. Bladder infection from the Foley catheter," Rukia offered up. "Wind is pneumonia, walking is either a pulmonary embolism or deep vein thrombosis. Wounds is an infected wound, and wonderdrugs is…"

"We don't know," Renji butted in. "Probably something related to a drug that was given, but who knows."

The short doctor seemed satisfied, and looked at Uryuu. "Looks like you have your work cut out for you, Dr. Ishida," he smirked. "Never wake me up again unless someone is dead, dying, or on fire."

Dr. Ishida closed the door quietly, and continued on his way.

"That was Dr. Hitsugaya, our Chief of Trauma Surgery. Demanding specialty, but rewarding when done correctly. Moving on."

Uryuu took them to the outside of an empty patient room. "Expanding on Dr. Hitsugaya's statement- have a good reason to page me. If your patient is actively dying, then by all means. However, if you page me because your patient has the sniffles, or if you managed to kill them, don't cut into my naptime. Not only will your patient be dead, but you'll have an angry resident. Dr. Abarai, what did I say about unhappy residents?"

"...That they'll make you hold clamps and sign charts until your hands fall off?"

"Very good. Now. This is when I send you on your happy little ways," he said. "Kira. Ask the nurse at the station for my charts, and go do workups. Abarai, labs. Hinamori, go do post-ops. Kuchiki-" He was interrupted by the sound of a beeping pager. "You're with me. Let's move!" he roared, taking off at a jog, Rukia hot on his heels.

Shuuhei stood as his peers dispersed.

"...What about me?"

"This is bullshit," Shuuhei mumbled, turning to Renji. "How come we have to do baby work while she gets to see real action? I'll bet she's scrubbing in right now!"

"That's a lot to assume," Momo stated, reaching across the desk to grab a chart. "He probably just needs to get to know everyone, and she was first on the list, I guess."

"Doesn't help that she's inbred."

Everyone turned to Izuru.

"Inbred?" Shuuhei asked, eyebrow raised.

Izuru nodded. "She's the sister of a surgeon here. A good one. Neuro, if I recall. And I think I remember seeing 'Dr. Kuchiki' on the board for a… tumor resection."

"Well, that explains it," Renji grumbled. "He's trying to impress Big Kuchiki. Better strap on your ballsacks, guys- and Momo," he amended quickly. "We're going to have to work twice as hard to see the inside of an OR as she is."

"And you really think that the best way to do that is to sit with your thumbs up your asses?" The interns froze and turned.

"Oh. Dr. Hitsugaya.. how long have you been there?" Momo asked shyly.

"I've been here the whole time," he deadpanned, closing the chart he'd been occupying himself with.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I just.. didn't.. you're so.."

"Short?" he asked, turning toward them. "Look. Let's end this here. Uryuu Ishida is not one to pick favourites. He's royalty himself, you know. Even if the girl's related to his mentor. The Princess is about as easy to impress as I am," he grumbled. "He just grabbed an intern. Which is what I'm doing now. Blondie, come with me. The rest of you, fight over whatever he was supposed to be doing."

Without any time for protest, Izuru took off after Hitsugaya.

Renji and Shuuhei slumped against the desk.

"Hey. D'ya know where I can find Dr. Ishida? I've got his films for-"

"Did you try paging him?" the nurse asked, looking at him with an exasperated expression.

"Yeah! What do you think I am, dumb? I paged him twice. He won't answer." Renji leaned against the counter.

"Then he's probably kinda busy, huh?" The nurse looked at the board. "He's stabilizing a pelvis fracture with Dr. Kurosaki. Is it an emergency?" The nurse returned her gaze to Renji.

"Well, it's a goddamn head CT! What do you think," Renji grumbled.

"May I see?"

Renji jumped, and turned to look at whoever'd snuck up behind him. The man before him wasn't particularly tall, but had the presence of a grizzly bear. He was thin and elegant, and those purple-blue eyes penetrated his soul. The hair that brushed past his shoulders, though greasy from hours of work, looked soft and inviting.

Holy hell, was this love at first sight?

Renji handed the films over without a word, and followed as the doctor disappeared into a consult room. Renji's eyes were focused on his hands as he removed the films from the envelope. He'd seen so many hands over his years. But those were the most beautiful hands he'd ever seen in his life.

"What do you see, Doctor..?"

"Abarai. Renji Abarai."

"Dr. Abarai. What do you see on these films?" he asked, turning toward the intern. Renji stepped closer, and scanned every millimeter of those images, not wanting to make a fool of himself.

"...Saccular aneurysm. Right.. there." He pointed, and looked at the more experienced surgeon.

"Excellent," came the reply. "Who is your resident?"

"Dr. Ishida, sir."

The black-haired doctor nodded. "He'll be happy to know that he has an errand boy who can read a CAT scan. Good. You are dismissed. If Dr. Ishida gives you hell, tell him that Dr. Kuchiki detained you."

Wait, Dr. Kuchiki? Renji looked up as the man put the films away. Dr. Kuchiki's eyes met his once again.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, sir. Thank you."

Two trays of food in-hand, Shuuhei sat between Renji and Momo, immediately digging into his shitty cafeteria meatloaf.

"I had a patient get so nervous, his blood pressure spiked, and he shot me with blood! I thought that only happened in movies," Izuru complained.

"Yeah? Well, I had a patient pee on me while I was doing post-ops," Momo whined, nibbling her sandwich.

"They didn't pee on you. You ran into their foley bag and bust it wide open," Shuuhei teased her, stealing a french fry off of her plate. Momo looked scandalized.

"Hey! You already have two trays!" she said.

"No food stealing. It's the law of the land," Rukia butted in. "So, Renji. Any horror stories?" she asked. He just blushed, hiding behind his pudding cup.

"Ohhh, get over yourself," Shuuhei nudged him in the side. "He's questioning his sexuality," he explained.

"Am not!" Renji retorted, shoving a spoonful of pudding into his mouth.

"He met your brother and hasn't stopped blushing since," Izuru stated. Rukia sat back and rolled her eyes.

"Please. He's not that hot. Trust me. I've seen him shirtless." She grinned, leaning forward. "Oh, and Renji? I've seen him naked. In the shower. Soaking wet," she said, wanting to see if she could get his face to match his hair color.

"How can you talk about your brother like that?" Momo asked.

"And how is it that I keep walking in on uncomfortable situations?" All of the interns turned to see Dr. Hitsugaya, hands on his hips.

"As some of you know, the first procedure is saved for the intern that shows the most promise in the OR. I've had input from a few other doctors.. and they've recommended Dr. Kira." He pat the blonde's back. "Twenty minutes, OR 2. And can someone hose Dr. Casanova off? He's creeping me out."

As Hitsugaya walked away, Renji looked at his peers. "...Remember what I said about strapping on ballsacks, guys?"

Izuru Kira was beginning to think that this nurse hated him, if she was capable of that much emotion. If he so much as wiggled his nose, she would turn and look at him with creepy, dead eyes, and very calmly state that he broke scrub.

"You touched me that time!" Izuru grumbled, trudging back to the sink for the third time in the past fifteen minutes.

"How do you think he'll do?" Renji asked, leaning forward and taking a chip offered by Momo.

"Fine," she shrugged. "But I think he'd better manage to scrub in first."

"Ten bucks says he can't even make the incision. Dude, what if he's totally squeamish and, like, passes out?" Shuuhei asked, nudging Renji in the side.

Rukia rolled her eyes. "But he gets to cut. And where are you right now?" she teased, snagging one of Momo's chips for herself.

The gallery went quiet as Izuru finally entered the OR, arms raised. There were more doctors in the room than Momo had expected. Were there supposed to be four surgeons for an appendectomy? It was always called such an easy procedure.

"One step at a time, Dr. Kira." The advice came from Dr. Ishida, who was standing at his left shoulder.

Izuru took a deep breath, staring down at the prepped surgical field. He let it out slowly. 'I can do this' ran through his head, but what came out of his mouth was.. "Ten blade, please." And with deceptively steady hands, Izuru sliced through his patient's skin along the purple mark.

The interns in the gallery observed with baited breath, watching their colleague reach his hands inside of the patient on the table. Some watched with pure interest. Some watched with hope, encouraging Izuru quietly in their heads and in their hearts. The rest were hoping that he'd fail, be it to collect a bet or to feel better about their bruised egos. Surgery was probably the most difficult medical specialty, full of cut-throats and subterfuge. If they were going to survive, their skins would have to grow thick enough to withstand the trauma of being snubbed for a surgery.

Izuru's hands moved with pure raw talent, carefully following the directions of his resident without the advantage of muscle memory. The other doctors in the room watched with interest, seeming ready to jump in at any given time, should their little protege lose his confidence, or make a disastrous error. Rukia tensed as she noticed the two residents step in a little closer.

"Appendix is out," Izuru announced. If his face was visible, the operating room would have been illuminated with the glow of his smile. In her seat, Dr. Hinamori clapped quietly and enthusiastically.

"Awesome," came the reply of one of the stand-by doctors. "Now invert the stump into the cecum, and pull up on your purse strings."

Izuru obeyed without delay. The room was quiet. He looked up at his resident, worried that he'd done something wrong. "What do I do next?" he asked curiously.

Uryuu nodded at the other surgeons. "We close. Very good, Dr. Kira."

Momo cleared her throat, holding her hand out.

"You're kidding."

"I'm not kidding! In all the time I've seen that procedure done, I've never seen an intern handle it so well! I knew I should have put my vote in for Hisagi," Uryuu grumbled, sitting down with his meal.

"Remember when Inoue did it? She tore her lady a new asshole in the center of her abdominal cavity. I'll never forget that meek little 'Whoopsie-daisy!'" Dr. Kurosaki chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. "If that's what your least skilled intern can do, it looks like you've got your work cut out for you. Don't come bitching to me when your interns flock to me for the chance to learn something," he grinned cockily. Ishida rolled his eyes.

"Look, Dr. Ishida has friends," Shuuhei pointed out. The interns were seated at a cafeteria table, surrounded by charts, lab results, and the occasional wordsearch. Izuru was forging signatures for Dr. Ishida, who had determined that they both had impeccable, calligraphy-esque handwriting. Why not use that to his advantage?

"I've noticed that there's not very many lone wolves here," Rukia observed. "I've been exposed to it a little bit longer, but there's a strong sense of camaraderie among surgeons. After all, they hardly ever leave the hospital." She turned her gaze toward her brother, who had an x-ray held up to the harsh fluorescent lights as he took a bite out of an apple. "I swear, he only comes home once a week."

"That's because he's a neurosurgeon," Momo pointed out. "There are only two in the hospital, aren't there? One has to stay on staff at all times, or we can't call ourselves a Trauma Center."

The conversation was cut short by the beeping of several pagers. Dr. Ishida stood, waving for his interns to follow.

"Duty calls," Hisagi grinned.

Twenty-four hours had come and gone. The interns were seated on the benches in the locker room, unable to move. Their bodies were used to long nights, but nothing with such a high stress level.

"I'm going to go sleep for a year," Renji complained, sitting in his underwear.

"We have rounds in twelve hours!" Rukia cried, smacking him on the back of the head. Renji whined in pain, rubbing his injury.

Izuru stretched himself out, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. "I haven't even found a place yet," he grumbled. "I'm going to have to see if the hotel across the street has an extra bed. It's probably cheaper than an apartment in town." He threw his access into the scrub disposal. "But first, I need coffee. Real coffee."

"The IHOP next door doesn't suck. Trust me, it's the best hangover food on the planet, and this counts as a hangover." Renji was still in his underwear. He protested weakly as Rukia tried to haul him to his feet.

"Come on, buddy. I'll drive you home. I saw that damn deathcycle out there." Rukia turned toward Momo, who had stayed rather quiet.

The girl was passed out on the bench.

"Let her sleep. That's gonna be all of us at one point or another," Shuuhei grinned. "See you all tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

“I slept with him.”

 

All eyes fell on Izuru. The interns paused in their morning routines, be it changing into their scrubs, fixing their hair, or shoving granola bars into their ravenous faces. Jaws dropped, brows scrunched in confusion.

 

“Uh?” Shuuhei asked, looking around the room. “Who? Not.. ew, you slept with Renji?”

 

He wasn’t able to duck the apple chucked at his forehead.

 

“Hey, it was a fair assumption,” Shuuhei grumbled. Renji looked as if he was going to jump over the bench and strangle his colleague.

 

It was Rukia who was able to calm the chaos. “Wait, wait. What?” she asked, putting one hand on Renji’s forehead to keep him from launching at Hisagi. “What did you do, Izuru?”

 

“...Let me start from the beginning,” he groaned.

* * *

 

Two in the morning was the best time to get pancakes, wasn’t it? The IHOP across the road was so convenient.. Coffee, wifi, food.. What more could he need? He had been reading a study.. Neuro-oncological reports, if he remembered. It was one of his fascinations. After all, he was a double-doctor. His first degree had been a PhD in Neuropsychology. Wasn’t it only fitting that he continue his education through his surgical residency?

 

“Mind if I sit?” 

 

Now, Izuru hadn’t been the most confidence-inspiring person on the planet at that time. His scrubs were dripped in what he could only hope was syrup. His hair was sticking up, and he could have placed quarters in the bags under his eyes. He looked up at the source of the interruption, blue eyes wide…

 

It was like seeing a ghost. A chill came over him. It was like the happiness in the world had been drained away.

 

But he couldn’t take his eyes off.

 

“...Sure,” he responded, moving his plate and laptop. 

 

The man who had spoken slid easily into the booth. He was pale-skinned, thin lips drawn into an unsettling smile. His eyes were open just barely-- Izuru couldn’t even make out the color. Izuru’s eyes dropped-- the man was in the scrubs of an Attending.

 

“Intern?” he asked, accent strong and southern.

 

“Y-yes,” he answered. “Surgical.”

 

The man seemed interested. “That’s right. I’ve seen you ‘round. Trailing Ishida, right? Good resident there,” he nodded. “Would have been excellent in Cardio, if Kuchiki hadn’t have snatched up from under me.” He took a moment to stare into Izuru’s soul.

 

“What about you, Dr. Kira. Are you interested in hearts?”

* * *

 

“That worked on you?” Rukia asked incredulously, hand on her chest in disbelief. “That’s.. Izuru, I’m disappointed.”

 

“I’m creeped out,” Renji admitted, pulling a banana out of his bag. His apple had already been sacrificed, and he had to eat something if he was going to survive the next shift. Their stamina was building, slowly but surely. 

 

The opening of the locker room door pulled them out of their not-so-quiet disappointment in the strength of Izuru’s resolve. Dr. Ishida stood before them, clipboard in-hand, looking rather ready to just get the day over with.

 

“Dr. Kira, report to Dr. Ichimaru. You’ve been requested in Cardio today.”

 

“Of course!” Izuru lamented, burying his head in his hands while the others snickered quietly.

 

Ishida wasn’t amused. “Have I missed something?”

 

Izuru snapped up and ran out the door. “No, sir! I’ll report right away, thank--” And he was gone.

 

“...I know better than to ask.” He shook his head. “Anyway. Hisagi, you’re on Neuro. Find Dr. Kuchiki. Other Kuchiki, Trauma with Dr. Hitsugaya.” Rukia let out a breath. Great. She was ‘Other Kuchiki’ now. 

 

“Abarai, you’re on Pediatrics with Dr. Ukitake. And Hinamori..” Hm. “I’m so sorry. You’re on Ortho with Dr. Urahara.” 

 

Momo looked more than concerned. “You’re sorry? Why? Is he a bad doctor? Is he mean?” 

 

Ishida couldn’t hide his smile. “Don’t worry about it. Just go find him.”

 

There was no confidence in her step as she made her way out of the door. With just himself and Renji in the room, he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

 

“....What’s so funny, sir.”

 

“Nothing. She’ll be fine, probably,” Uryuu shrugged, pulling himself together as he waved Dr. Abarai along to follow him to the Pediatric ward. 

* * *

 

The ER was chaos. She heard a baby cry. She heard a drunkard vomit profusely into a bedpan. She heard the faint wail of an ambulance outside. She heard the parents of the screaming child call for someone, anyone, to come help their baby. There was no visible starting point. 

 

“Hey! Intern!”

 

Oh, thank god.

 

Rukia jogged to the voice. A doctor stood with a nurse, snapping on gloves and covering sweat-stained scrubs in an unattractively yellow trauma gown.

 

“I’m Dr. Matsumoto,” the woman stated, helping the nurse secure her head, and massive amount of red hair, into a disposable scrub cap. “I’m one of the trauma attendings. Ready to get your hands dirty?” she asked, handing a gown to Rukia.

 

“Always,” she answered, unable to keep the small grin from spreading across her face.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Rukia Kuchiki.”

 

A smile. "Oh! We have a Kuchiki. Any relation?"

 

A nod. "He's my brother."

 

"...Bless your heart."

 

Rukia managed to force on her gloves, and her gown was drooping down a bit on her shoulders, but she followed Dr. Matsumoto out to the ambulance bay.

 

“What do we have coming in?” Rukia asked 

 

“Auto versus man. We’re getting the man. He’s apparently ‘not too bad,’ but the last time they sent one to me with that description, Dr. Hitsugaya and I had to remove his hand from a damn meat grinder. With Dr. Urahara-- uh, ortho guy, you’ll meet him later-- making a shit ton of meat-themed jokes,” she rubbed his eyes despite the smirk on his face. “The point is, always expect the worst.”

 

As if on cue, an ambulance came to a stop at their feet, the doors rushing open.

 

“Grimmjow Jaegerjacques, 31. Struck by automobile. Pulse is--”

 

“Wait, Jaegerjacques?” Dr. Matsumoto’s voice held veiled panic as the paramedic launched out of the rig. The patient was fighting the backboard and neck brace, almost managing to break a wrist restraint. All Rukia saw were a couple of cuts and bruises, but there was a large, deep laceration on his leg, complete with what seemed to be gravel and bits of broken glass.

 

“Finding new ways to get to work, huh?” Dr. Matsumoto asked with a laugh, taking the stretcher from the paramedic. Grimmjow shot her a bemused look.

 

“Not quite, but I’ll keep that in mind. Now can you get me the hell out of this thing? The people who hit me got pretty fucked up. That’s what happens when you hit a goddamn post office,” he muttered, trying to pull free. Rangiku laughed. 

 

“Yeah, yeah. Just humor me. Let the baby work you up. And don’t go all Exorcist on us and make this one piss her pants,” she scolded. 

 

“Wait, baby?” Grimmjow looked over. “Oh, fuck. I forgot today’s the day they let the monkeys out of the zoo.”

 

"They've been roaming the halls for what, a week now? Get with it, Jaegerjacques."

 

Rukia gave Grimmjow another once-over before helping him to the patient bed. She pulled her stethoscope from around her neck and got to work checking the patient’s heart and lung sounds. 

 

“Heart is strong, no murmur. Breath sounds are clear and equal.”

 

“And what would you do if my heart sounded like someone put it through the spin cycle?” Grimmjow asked, hissing as Rukia’s cold hands palpated his abdomen. “And if your hands go any lower, you’re gonna feel more than my baby kick,” he deadpanned.

 

Rukia drew her hands up. “In that case, I would page cardio and arrange for an emergency CT. I would suspect trauma to the aorta, especially with abnormal blood pressure.”

 

Grimmjow gave a nod. “Right.” He fell back on the bed. “Lemmie go, Matsumoto. I think I saw a dude’s femurs get shoved up into his pelvis.”

 

Rangiku laughed again. “Let the kid stitch you up. They won’t let you into an OR with blood running down your leg. Go get a suture kit, Kuchiki. And can someone page Kurosaki?”

 

Rukia was gone for a minute. Literally. Suture kit in hand, she stepped through the doorway just in time to see Grimmjow, pants around his ankles, stapling the worst of his cuts with a skin stapler.

 

“You have to be shitting me,” Rukia stated plainly. “That didn’t hurt?”

 

“Of course it hurt,” Grimmjow stated. “Irrigation was a bitch too, but I’ll take that over getting crooked-ass sutures from an intern just because Dr. Meatboobs wants to let Kurosaki get his filthy hands in on my damn surgery. No offense.”

 

Rukia stared. “None taken.”

* * *

 

“Are you looking for someone, Dr. Abarai?” 

 

Renji jumped out of his skin. Nemu Kurotsuchi was easily the creepiest nurse on staff. She didn’t really have to do much to defend her title, though. All she had to do was sneak up on Renji while he was daydreaming at the nurse’s station. 

 

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I’m waiting for Dr. Ukitake.”

 

“He’s a Pediatric Surgeon.” 

 

Renji blinked. “Yeah. I know that.”

 

“...The patient in that room is Dr. Kuchiki’s. You’re not on his service. You shouldn’t be here.”

 

She wasn’t going to give it a rest. Subtlety wasn’t Nemu’s strength. Without another word, he hung his head and trudged off to the elevator. He had no idea who Dr. Ukitake was, but he could just about guarantee that he wasn’t nearly as smart and attractive as Dr. Kuchiki. The man was a goddamned inspiration. He had the best surgical outcomes of any neurosurgeon that the hospital had ever seen, not to mention how good he looked in that cherry blossom scrub cap..

 

“Good for you to join us! You must be Dr. Abarai! Come, come! Would you like a piece of candy? Dr. Ukitake has plenty!” 

 

Renji’s senses were assaulted with.. Cute.. the moment the elevator door opened. The doctor who greeted him was a jovial man, probably in his late forties or early fifties. His hair was wild, threatening to break out of the tie that held it back. His scrubs were overstimulating and bright. 

 

“Easy on him, Dr. Kyoraku.” 

 

Renji’s salvation came in the form of a mild-mannered looking man with such kindness in his eyes that could cure cancer. The whiteness of his hair made him look a lot older than Renji guessed he was. He placed his hand on Renji’s shoulder and led him to the nurse’s station.

 

“I’m Dr. Jushiro Ukitake. That is Dr. Shunsui Kyoraku, head of Pediatric Surgery,” he said in a calm, soothing tone, gesturing to the man in the bright, flowery scrubs. 

 

“Why don’t you come with me? I have a very sick little boy that would be very pleased to meet you. Oh!” Dr. Ukitake ran behind the desk at the nurse’s station and picked up a box. “Your tattoos might scare the children,” he started, and picked up one of two scrub caps. “Butterflies or unicorns?”

 

And that day, Renji Abarai spent the majority of his shift in a rainbow butterfly scrub cap. 

* * *

 

“I take this act of mutilation as a personal insult.” 

 

Rukia watched as Dr. Yumichika Ayasegawa dug the staples out of Dr. Jaegerjacques’ leg. He threw each into the basin she held with extreme hatred. 

“There is no way I’m going to prevent you from having a zipper scar along your shin,” he snarled. “And you! Why didn’t you page me?” He turned to Rukia, whose eyebrows shot up.

 

Rangiku waved her hand. “Now, Yumichika. She doesn’t have to page Plastics for every damn suture,” she grumbled, arms crossed. “Besides.. It’s Grimmjow. He did it to himself to get a surgery.”

 

“Which they still gave to Kurosaki,” Grimmjow muttered. “You know I’m still here, right? I can hear you.”

 

Rangiku ruffled his hair. “Yeah, but we gave you morphine. You don’t count as present right now, sweetheart. Eat your popsicle.” 

 

Grimmjow shrugged. He wasn’t about to argue with her, and the bomb pop he’d been given was consolation enough for missing out on a probably really cool surgery. Kind of. He was still going to kick Kurosaki’s ass the next time that he saw him. He was being punished for being hurt. Wasn’t there some kind of law against that kind of discrimination?

 

Rukia rolled her eyes, but was interrupted in her indifference by a flash of blonde.

 

“Izuru? What are you doing down here?” she asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be on cardio with Dr. Ichimaru?”

 

Izuru looked like he really needed to lie down. “I can’t do it, Rukia. He’s just so..”

 

“Sounds like Ichimaru,” Yumichika muttered. 

 

“You slept with him, too?” 

 

The entire room paused. Yumichika turned to Rangiku, both trying to contain their laughter. Grimmjow looked bewildered. Rukia was just going to implode from second-hand embarrassment. 

 

“...No.” Yumichika’s answer was strained. “..I..? You know what? I really don’t need to know the details. Some things are better left unknown.” 

 

Rangiku looked at Grimmjow. “Did you ever sleep with him?”

 

The sound Grimmjow made was between a gag, a bark, and a laugh. “I might be on the Boner Squad, but even I have standards,” he scoffed. “He’d probably suck my soul out.” 

 

“Boner Squad?” Rukia really didn’t like the sound of that.

 

Rangiku rolled her eyes. “Everyone in Ortho is a slut.”

 

“Hey.” Grimmjow shot her a look. 

 

“It’s true,” Yumichika interjected. “It’s a disease.” 

 

Rukia gasped and shared a panicked look with Izuru. 

 

“Oh no, Momo!” 

 

They didn’t have much time to be panicked for their friend, though. Rukia went still as she saw an unfamiliar, unsettling looking figure in scrubs come closer. His hair was unnaturally silver, and he seemed to slither along the ER floor. It was almost terrifying. That was who had charmed little Izuru into bed with him?

 

“There you are, Izuru,” he drawled. “Come on, we’ve got hearts to fix.”

 

Izuru looked back at them as he followed Dr. Ichimaru, eyes wide. ‘Help me,’ he mouthed. Yumichika, Rangiku, and Grimmjow just gave tiny, faint waves as he disappeared. 

 

“Ichimaru fucking anyone, let alone an intern, is really outside of the realm of what I saw possible,” Yumichika noted, placing the final stitch into Grimmjow’s leg. 

 

“That poor, sweet baby.” Rangiku tsked. “He better buckle up.”

* * *

 

Lunchtime came and everyone was exhausted. Hisagi munched mindlessly on a cafeteria cheeseburger. Rukia yawned around a mouthful of spaghetti. Renji was half-asleep in his turkey club. Only Momo seemed to really be chipper. Izuru was alert, but everyone assumed that it was out of anxiety as opposed to wakefulness. 

 

“I don’t know why Dr. Ishida was so concerned about me working with Dr. Urahara. He’s so smart. Did you know that he’s an expert on spinal surgery? It’s his specialty. We’re only doing a knee replacement today, but I can’t wait to see him do something with vertebrae!” 

 

Izuru and Rukia exchanged a look, but nobody opened their mouth. They didn’t want to spoil her innocence or enthusiasm. 

 

“Also, Renji, your scrub cap is really pretty. It’s very flattering,” she giggled. Renji ripped the colorful fabric off of his head.

 

“I need something hardcore,” he grumbled. “Like Neuro. Hey, Shuuhei, trade?”

 

Shuuhei laughed. “Hell, no! I get to watch the master himself clip an aneurysm. I’m not giving that up so you can indulge your weird little.. Infatuation with Rukia’s brother.” 

 

Rukia rolled her eyes. “He’s really not that great. He’s picky, he’s hard to please, he’s a perfectionist, a neat-freak, gives you the most disappointed glare you’ve ever seen in your life, and not to mention the stick in his ass..”

 

“I think Renji wants to stick something in his ass-- hey!” He rubbed his head.

 

Momo pulled away with a smile. “It had to be done. But anyway. Izuru, how’s Cardio?”

 

Izuru squeaked.

 

“Oh, come on,” Rukia rolled her eyes. Again. It was becoming a constant trait of hers. “This hospital is full of debauchery. I’ve heard stories. You’re not the first, won’t be the last.”

 

“It’s still awful!” Izuru groaned. “He’s just so.. He takes the air right out of my lungs. I don’t know what to do.”

 

All of the pagers at the table started to beep.

 

“You get the lead out. Let’s move!” Shuuhei yelled, and the five of them dispersed. 

* * *

 

 

There would be a day where Momo Hinamori would get used to the long shifts. It wasn’t until she was sitting in the locker room that she realized that she was about to pass out. 

 

“I can’t move.” She laid down on the bench.

 

“Hey, never leave a man behind. Or, er, woman,” Renji shrugged. “Come on. I’m hitching a ride home with Shuuhei. You can come with us.”

 

“You’re riding with me because you live with me now,” Shuuhei grumbled. Rukia and Izuru gave him a look. “What? My parents left me a six bedroom house.”

 

The questions were immediate. “How many bathrooms?” “Is it big?” “Is there a yard?”

 

“Can I move in?” Momo begged. “I have mice in my apartment!”

 

Izuru’s hand went up. “I’m still living at a hotel!” 

 

“I live with my brother,” Rukia snarled. 

 

Shuuhei blinked.

 

“I’ll pay you,” Rukia offered.

 

“I’ll feed you!” Momo volunteered. 

 

“I’ll clean!” Izuru cried out.

 

Shuuhei looked around the room. What the fuck was happening? What had he done to deserve this? But… he could make a killing from their rent payments..

 

“Okay,” he shrugged. “Rent’s.. Uh.. three hundred a month. No smoking. There’s only four bathrooms, so someone has to share.. Uh, it’s about a mile from the hospital..”

 

And just like that, he’d gained four new roommates. The people who were, in all technicality, his competition, were living with him. This was going to make it a lot harder to slit their career throats further down the line. 

 

“Well, come on,” he grumbled, waving for them all to follow him.

 

It wasn’t just time for the interns to go home. Byakuya Kuchiki and Kisuke Urahara walked through the parking lot, idly discussing methods for spinal reconstructions. They were brought out of their pleasant conversation, however, by the approach of an obnoxiously huge SUV driven by an intern.. The one with the spiked hair and the scar on his face. Uhh.. Hisoka? Something like that..

 

But what really caught Dr. Kuchiki’s attention was the very familiar face staring at him from the passenger seat. Red hair, tattoos, looking like he was about to vomit? Now that was Dr. Abarai. That one, he knew. 

 

It took Dr. Urahara not even a second to analyze the scene in front of him. “You don’t want no scrub,” he warned lightly.

 

“Scrub?” 

 

Oh, no.

 

“A scrub is a guy who thinks he’s fly, and is also known as a buster,” Urahara couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. Byakuya looked to the sky, and gripped his keys harder. 

 

“No, I don’t want no scrub. A scrub is a guy who can’t get no love from me. Hangin’ out the passenger side of his best friend’s ride, tryin’ to holler at me,” he sang, dancing badly and pointing at the passing SUV. 

 

Byakuya ducked into the driver’s seat of his brand new BMW and revved the engine as soon as he had it started.  

 

This was going to become irritating, fast.


	3. Chapter 3

Living away from home was so liberating. No longer did she have perfect, dear Byakuya Kuchiki breathing down her neck. She was free now. If she wanted to have pizza for dinner four days in a row, she could. Well, if it lasted that long. There were unashamed food thieves in her new accommodations. It was refreshing, though. She loved her new room. She liked her new roommates. Okay, that was a stretch. But she was loving the freedom she had.  
Not everybody appreciated her freedom, though.

“Clothes!” Izuru screamed as he entered the kitchen, only to see Rukia butchering scrambled eggs in her underwear.

“Do you want breakfast or not?” she asked, brows raised.

“...I’ll get a poptart..” 

Renji was unperturbed. “Throw some cheese in mine, need the protein,” he shrugged, grabbing a Red Bull out of the fridge. 

They rode to work together, too. It was convenient, and besides, it was just a five minute drive to work, if there was traffic. They walked in like a pack, like they dominated the hospital. Some of the doctors were beginning to catch on. They said nothing-- their egos would be crushed in due time.

“Good morning,” Dr. Ishida greeted the room of interns as he opened the door to the locker room. “I want everybody to follow me to Skills Lab C,” he announced. “And that means everybody, whether you are my intern or not. Dr. Kuchiki has requested every intern for a special evaluation.”

Gossip started and hearts dropped.

“What’s this about?” Momo asked Rukia, who simply shrugged.

“Just because he’s my brother doesn’t mean he tells me everything.” 

Renji looked like he was going to pass out.

Every intern in the program packed into the skills lab. Dr. Kuchiki stood at the front of the room with doctors Ishida, Kurosaki, Jaegerjacques, and a few others that the interns didn’t recognize. When the door closed, Dr. Kuchiki walked up to a table. It was marked up with knife gashes and faint red marks from a Sharpie.

“Thank you for joining me in here,” he started, preparing a tray. It held only a scalpel and a thin Sharpie. “I am not a man who likes to waste time,” he stated. “Neurosurgery is a very difficult specialty. It requires more accuracy, speed, and raw talent than any other specialty that I have seen. There is no give in Neurosurgery. The needle pushes too far, the patient is dead. It’s over.” 

Momo gulped.

“I have designed this test to evaluate your raw talent. Your instincts. Nothing more. It does not exclude you from my service or indicate that you would not be an excellent surgeon. Very few doctors excel at this challenge. But one is standing before you. Care to demonstrate, Dr. Ishida?” 

Dr. Ishida nodded. He picked up the scalpel and placed his hand, palm-down on the table, fingers splayed. “I have all my fingers,” he sang lightly, beginning a pattern of stabbing between them swiftly. “The knife goes chop, chop, chop. If I miss the spaces in between, my fingers will come off. And if I hit my fingers, the blood will soon come out. But all the same, I play this game, because that’s what it’s all about.” Faster. “Oh, chop, chop, chop, I’m picking up the speed. And if I hit my fingers, then my hand will start to bleed.”

When he was finished, the room erupted in talk. Where Uryuu had placed his hands, there were only six deep stab marks. Perfect. 

“Now,” Dr. Kuchiki interrupted. “I do not expect any of you to use a scalpel. Dr. Ishida is a trained professional. Instead, you will use the marker.” He held it up. “You want as few marks on your paper as possible. Keep the outside marks as close to your hand as possible. We will go one at a time. Who doesn’t like competition?” 

Dr. Ishida held up the marker. “Who first?”

First was an intern they didn’t recognize. She was alright, but there were a few red marks on her fingernails. Dr. Kuchiki kept tempo, singing the awful song lightly. Shuuhei went, and, well..

“...Good try, Dr. Hisagi.” He hadn’t landed in the same spot twice at all. It was actually kind of sad..

..But nowhere near as sad as Dr. Abarai’s attempt.

He’d just been so distracted. Dr. Kuchiki was just such an amazing surgeon. He wanted to impress him. If he was impressed, he was happy. If he was happy, then maybe.. Just maybe.. He’d have a chance. 

No way in hell now.

“Dr. Abarai, did you manage to actually puncture your hand with the marker?” Byakuya asked, brows raised. Dr. Ishida buried his head in his hands.

“Grab an alcohol wipe and clean up. It looks like you’ve slaughtered a pig.”

Not embarrassing at all.

Momo did fine, but was nothing to write home about. The best up to that point had been Rukia. Of course. She was expected to do well. It was the guilt of having a successful sibling. But she beamed back at his stone-cold visage as she held the paper up.

Among them, Izuru was the last to go. He never was one to inspire much confidence. Hadn’t that been why he’d been picked for that first surgery? He walked up to the table without much confidence. But for as much confidence that he didn’t have in himself, Uryuu had for him. 

“Watch him,” he whispered to his mentor. 

Izuru started, but his face stopped showing anxiety. It showed peace. He seemed confident and his hand moved quickly. However, when Byakuya picked up the pace, he picked up the scalpel.

Not approving, Byakuya stopped singing, but Uryuu picked up instead. He was going to let Izuru show what he was worth. When he stopped, there were only six marks on the paper, and six holes from the scalpel. It was flawless. The room erupted in a round of applause. 

“Very good, Dr. Kira,” Byakuya praised. “I hope nobody tries to top you, for their sake.”

As they left the room, Uryuu gave them their assignments. “Abarai. You need the surgical equivalence to Jesus. Get back in there with Dr. Kuchiki. This is not a reward,” he warned sternly. But to Renji, it sure felt like one. He ran back in, eager to not be on Pediatrics anymore.

“Hinamori, you’re in Plastics. Go find Dr. Aizen. Try not to fall in love with him like you did with Dr. Urahara. I don’t need to hear about every stitch he does.” 

She blushed.

“Dr. Kuchiki, go grace Dr. Shihouin with your presence, she’s been wanting an intern for a while. Hisagi… go with Kira to the ER. There’s a bar crawl today. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto might need some extra hands.”

Dr. Kira didn’t even make it halfway to the Emergency Room before he was intercepted by the one person he wanted to avoid. He jumped nearly out of his skin when Dr. Ichimaru stepped out of a supply closet in front of him.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Yes.” It didn’t take an ounce of hesitation. 

“Why?”

Dr. Kira shifted his weight back and forth. “...It’s inappropriate.” 

That didn’t seem to impress Dr. Ichimaru, who reached out to smooth Izuru’s hair down. “It happens. It’s okay,” he smiled. Well, he was always smiling. It was a different smile.

“You didn’t seem to complain the other day.” 

“Still inappropriate.”

“I heard you won Kuchiki’s little contest.” The ignoring was overt. “Every department head is going to clamor after you.” 

Izuru shook his head. “I don’t want them to. I just want to learn.”

“Then let me teach you.”

* * *

 

There was something wrong with the female attendings and residents at Shin’o Memorial Hospital. There was no explanation. She’d thought that Dr. Matsumoto had just been some kind of fluke, but this was getting ridiculous.

“Are you staring at my chest for a reason, Dr. Kuchiki?”

Fuck! She was staring!

“Uh, no, ma’am,” she stuttered, averting her gaze. Dr. Shihouin just grinned and squeezed her own boobs. 

“It’s okay. You can stare. They’re great, aren’t they? I can see how you might be a little bit jealous,” she winked. Rukia whimpered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Dr. Shihouin picked up a chart and handed it over to Rukia. “It’s okay. I might have a bigger chest, but you have a famous older brother, don’t you?” she winked. The disappointed, annoyed look on Rukia’s face was exactly what she expected. 

“It sucks, I know. I was in Byakuya Kuchiki’s intern group with him. I saw him.. Absolutely excel,” she sighed. “He became Chief Resident, picked up the hardest specialty on the planet.. But it if makes you feel better, I got to see him fall directly on his ass, too. His pretty, pretty ass.” She let out a breath.

“Don’t try to be Mini-Byakuya. Set yourself apart from him. Strive for his greatness, but don’t strive for him. He cried after his first solo surgery. Don’t cry after your first surgery.” 

The little pep talk was exactly what Rukia had needed. She smiled and nodded, holding the chart to her chest. “Thank you, Dr. Shihouin.”  
“And you can start establishing your greatness.. By doing this bowel prep and enema. Thanks!” she sang, sauntering away. 

Sigh.

* * *

 

Renji was in heaven. Finally, he was on Dr. Kuchiki’s service. He was prepared to have to bribe someone to be able to see the inside of a brain if he had to. All he wanted was a chance to impress him, to show him just how good he was. He’d failed the challenge, but judging from the talk around the room, he wasn’t the first to do so. Dr. Kurosaki had apparently done equally bad in his time, but he, as an early fourth year resident, was already poised for an Orthopedic Surgery fellowship under Dr. Kisuke Urahara, who was easily one of the best Orthopedic Surgeons in the country.

“I don’t appreciate the way you look at me, Dr. Abarai.” 

They were in a patient room, checking on a patient who had fallen from a window and suffered a rather severe brain injury, among others. 

Renji froze. “Sir?”

Byakuya checked the patient’s pupils. He was unconscious, thank god. “I am going to make this a very short discussion. It is very obvious to myself and other doctors on the floor that you harbor some kind of crush on me. It ends now. It doesn’t reflect well on you and embarrasses me.” 

Renji opened his mouth. But.. what? How..? 

“You are dismissed. Go check the lab for this patient’s tox screen.”

Renji was gone in an instant.

“...What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The interjection came from Dr. Ayasegawa. He’d been checking the patient’s wounds-- he’d debrided several, and needed to make sure the others didn’t need stitches. Honestly, Dr. Kuchiki had forgotten that he was in the room. 

“The kid admires you,” he stated, putting the patient’s arm down. “If he wants to have a crush, let him. It’ll motivate him. He fucked that challenge up because he was too worried about impressing you. Instead of getting him to focus, you just shamed him and probably sent him to his Resident to change services. You need to loosen up and apologize to him, in that order.” 

Byakuya looked angry. “Mind your own concerns, Dr. Ayasegawa. His behavior was unprofessional.”

Yumichika rolled his eyes. “So is berating him for something so harmless in front of another Attending. Don’t punish him because you’re embarrassed.”

* * *

 

“Have anything good? Your brother’s a dick,” Renji grumbled, leaning against the nurse’s station. Rukia reached out to pat his back.

“Finally, someone else sees it. What did he do to you?” she asked, looking him over. “You were so hot to get on Neuro, too.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he sighed, practically lying down on the desk. Rukia could guess what happened, but she didn’t want to say anything. Byakuya could be unnecessarily stern. 

Both of them were startled, however, when Dr. Hitsugaya came around the corner and made his way over to them. 

“Abarai. I heard what happened. Don’t take it personally. That being said, you’re on my service. I gave him Kira. With the power vested in me by being a decent surgeon, I am prepared to apologize to you by giving you the chance to perform a lumbar puncture. Follow me.”

‘What is today?’ Renji mouthed to Rukia as he walked away.

* * *

 

“You have to be quiet,” Izuru fretted. There were hands all over his body. “Momo has an early day. She’ll be home soon.” 

Gin grinned against his neck. “I don’t think it’s me that has to worry about being quiet.” 

This was dangerous. Izuru knew it was dangerous, but he just couldn’t keep himself away. Dr. Ichimaru had a very strange type of charisma. It was almost intimidating. It drew him in like quicksand. What was the implication here? Was this going to destroy his career? Why was Dr. Ichimaru so interested in him, of all people?

Almost like he could predict the future, the door opened. Izuru snapped to attention and Gin pulled himself upright on the couch. 

“Oh! Hello, Izuru,” Momo greeted. “And.. hello, Dr. Ichimaru,” she greeted happily, if not suspiciously. 

“Evenin’,” he drawled, waving gently.

She hung her keys by the door and placed her bag down. “Um.. how was your day?” she chirped. “I spent the day with Dr. Aizen. He’s very talented! He’s not nearly as crude as Dr. Ayasegawa, that’s for sure. He’s much more polite. And his technique for hiding mastectomy scars is amazing! I could barely even see the incision!” 

Gin snorted. That sweet girl was going to get one hell of a wakeup call. It wasn’t his place to point it out, though. She’d have to take that journey on her own. Sousuke Aizen was a major snake in the grass. He charmed his way into people’s good graces, then stabbed them in the back. All she’d have to do was ask him. Or Grimmjow. Or Kurosaki.

The list of people disillusioned with Aizen was long.

“Ummm, does anyone want some dinner?” she asked. “I think there’s enough chicken thawed for everyone?” she suggested, despite Izuru’s very obvious protest.

“Dinner sounds wonderful, thank you, Dr. Hinamori,” Gin purred.

* * *

 

“Next time, give the intern to Dr. Ayesegawa.”

The sound of Dr. Aizen’s voice pulled Uryuu’s attention away from the chart that he’d been working on. He was taken aback, pulling the papers closer to his chest in a subconscious effort of self-defense. 

“Dr. Aizen. This is a teaching hospital. I will assign interns to any and every Attending here as I see fit,” he insisted. 

Aizen snorted. “Keep them off of my service, Ishida.”

Ishida clenched his jaw as Aizen took his leave, sauntering back to whatever pit of hell he’d emerged from. Aizen had a great reputation with interns-- until they reached their second year. It wouldn’t last long, the interns’ unknowing ban on Aizen’s service. All Ishida had to do was bring it up to the Chief of Surgery.. But Dr. Yamamoto’s health was failing. He rarely came out of his office to do more than administrative duties. It would be hard to catch him, and until then, he’d have to deal with either passing his interns off to other doctors, or Aizen’s bitching.

Either way, there was going to be a lot of bitching in his future.

Dr. Ishida wandered off to the on-call room, threw open the door, and plopped down on the bed.

“Bad day?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” 

Dr. Kurosaki climbed down from the top bunk and swung into the bottom, plopping himself down next to Uryuu. “What happened this time?”

Uryuu groaned. “Kuchiki wants nothing to do with one of my interns, and Aizen banned all of them from his service. What the hell is wrong with them?”

Ichigo shrugged. “It’s not them. Didn’t one of yours win the challenge?” He rose an eyebrow. “Kuchiki’s an ass, Aizen’s an ass. Different kinds of asses, but asses nonetheless.”

He rolled onto his back, nearly crushing his peer in the process. “If it were me, I’d make those grown-ass men get over their shit and give them the interns they hate. Wait, what happened?”

“Apparently, Abarai was making heart-eyes at Kuchiki, and Aizen just wants an excuse to be an asshole.”  
Ichigo gave him a blank stare. “Well, then it sounds like Kuchiki needs to man up and work with Abarai, and Aizen just needs to accept that Jeagerjaques isn’t going into Plastics. He’s still pissed about that, you know. He lost out on all the good ones, Yumichika wasn’t his pick..”   
Uryuu rubbed the back of his neck. “So I have to tell my mentor and boss that they need to man up?”

  
“Absolutely.”


	4. Chapter 4

For the fourth week in a row, Byakuya Kuchiki was being trailed by Renji Abarai. The doing of Uryuu Ishida after finding out about his outburst, no doubt. Ishida knew how to flex his muscle without overstepping. He’d think it were clever if it were not annoying. It was getting to the point where he feared that he was beginning to monopolize the boy’s education. He saw marked improvement from the first time that he’d gauged his skills, however. Was that due to the quality of the teacher, or the student’s ability to learn?   
  


The first week had been awkward. Their altercation was fresh in their memories. Was it even fair to call it an altercation? Byakuya hadn’t even given him the chance to retort. But as time went on, he found their interactions to be less stilted, more fluid, more conversational. It was becoming easier to communicate.  
  


A breath left Renji’s lips as he clutched the chart in his hands. It wasn’t good news that he bore. A patient’s scan had come back, and the aneurysm he’d spotted was enormous. The thing was a ticking time bomb.   
  


“Dr. Kuchiki?” he asked, opening the door to the consultation room. Byakuya was staring at CTs and MRIs for another patient. That one, he could do nothing for.   
  


“Yes?” He took the scans down, and held out his hand for the new ones.  
  


Renji handed them over, and shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Sir, I wanted to apologize for the other week. I allowed my desire to impress you to override my abilities. It won’t happen again.”  
  


For a moment, Byakuya was quiet. He looked the scans over, then beckoned Renji closer. “Would you recommend embolization or clipping in this case?”  
  


“Clipping.” The answer was immediate. “No question. It’s too big and too likely to rupture.”   
  


Byakuya chuckled to himself. “I want you to see this one up close. Do you mind assisting?”  
  


Renji lit up. “Absolutely! Thank you, sir!”   
  


“Go prep the patient for surgery.” Renji’s shoes could have started a fire with how quickly he moved. “And Abarai?”  
  


He screeched to a halt.  
  


“I should be apologizing to you. My behavior was reprehensible and a clear overreaction.” He took the scans down and tucked them into their envelope.   
  


Renji didn’t respond verbally. He just beamed and took off in the direction of their patient’s room. Byakuya, on the other hand, had to take a moment, braced against the desk, trying to calm himself down.  
  


He wasn’t going to return the crush, that was for certain. Not after what had happened all those years ago. But he did have to admit that Abarai’s eagerness, his demeanor.. He was endearing.

 

* * *

 

Renji was the only one among them experiencing any sense of stability. Rukia had spent a week with Aizen, a week with Urahara. Ukitake had been her favourite, by far. Aizen was amazing, but he was amazing in himself. He didn’t like to teach. Urahara was an excellent teacher, but he was definitely eccentric. Ukitake spoke to her in a way that she understood, let her try before he stepped in to help, and gave her time to ask all of the questions she wanted.  
  


“That’s because he’s a Pediatric Surgeon. He’s good with kids,” Shuuhei pointed out.   
  


Rukia gave him a blank stare. “Are you calling me a child?”  
  


“I’m insinuating that you might need a nap and a juice box.”  
  


Izuru held Rukia back as she reached across the table to strangle him. “I think we all need naps,” he grumbled. He dropped his classmate, however, when Dr. Ishida made his way over to the table.   
  


“Why do I always interrupt weird moments?” he wondered aloud.  
  


“Actually, Dr. Hitsugaya interrupts the really weird ones..”  
  


He pretended not to hear that. “Anyway. Kira, you’re on Cardio.”  
  


Izuru squeaked.  
  


“Not with Ichimaru. You’ll be shadowing Dr. Otoribashi today. You need a change of pace. Kuchiki, you’re with Ichimaru. Lung transplant for a Cystic Fibrosis patient, should be good.” He turned to Shuuhei with a dark look.  
  


“Hisagi, since Abarai is monopolizing Dr. Kuchiki’s time, you will be serving a Neuro rotation with Dr. Kurotsuchi. Just.. don’t make any sudden movements, and try not to stare.”  
  


Okay, Hisagi wasn’t one that could be warned in such a way. He was going to stare. He was going to make sudden movements, all because Dr. Ishida had told him explicitly not to. It was a curse.  
  


“Also, please let Hinamori and Abarai know that, this Sunday, the surgical staff is expected to attend our yearly Gala. All elective surgeries are canceled, and the floor will be staffed by a small group of select surgeons. You are welcome to bring a date, and don’t be surprised if you are asked by a doctor who pities you. The Board of Trustees really likes to think we take this seriously, even if we do treat it like a prom.” He rolled his eyes.   
  


“It’s pretentious. But if I have to go, so do you. And don’t forget to warn Hinamori and Abarai.”   
  


The three of them shared an unbelieving expression as Dr. Ishida walked away.  
  


“Hey, wanna go to the prom with me, Izuru?” Rukia asked with a grin.  
  


Izuru stood up and walked away without a word.

 

* * *

 

Meeting new doctors was less nerve-wracking the more Shuuhei did it. In fact, he barely bothered to introduce himself at all. He just asked the closest nurse, grabbed a chart, and went with it. Interns were expendable and interchangeable. The thought would offend him if that feeling hadn’t been beaten out of him.  
  


“Hi, Nurse Ise,” he greeted, on autopilot. “Can I have Dr. Kurotsuchi’s charts?”   
  


Her eyebrows shot into her hairline as she handed the chart over. “If you insist,” she mumbled. That poor kid had no idea what was going to happen. She was going to stay close, though, and monitor the situation.  
  


And by monitor the situation, she just really wanted to see his reaction.   
  


With Uryuu’s prior warning fresh in his mind, he opened the door to the patient’s room slowly, peeking in as if something was going to jump out at him. He sighed with a smile. There was a very pretty redheaded doctor-- a Resident, maybe-- standing to the side of another doctor. The other doctor’s back was turned, and Shuuhei couldn’t see his face. No matter. The face he was looking at was pretty enough to make up for whatever old man he had to look at.  
  


“Dr. Hisagi! Finally!” The male doctor’s voice was shrill and startling..  
  


..But not as startling as his face.  
  


How was that face makeup professional? How was it sanitary? The man’s entire face had been painted white, with the inner portion filled in with black. His eyes were large, beady, and browless. His lips were thin, revealing much of his teeth.  
  


Shuuhei screamed. Not only did he scream, but he tried to run out of the room, and fell flat on his ass.  
  


“Dr. Hisagi! What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “This patient has just had brain surgery! You can’t be screaming near him! Well, lucky for you, he’s in a coma..” He gestured for the other doctor.   
  


“Dr. Inoue, take him to get my CT results! I’ll be in my lab.”   
  


Panting, Shuuhei scrambled to his feet after Dr. Kurotsuchi stepped over his body to exit. The female doctor who had been observing gave a little giggle.   
  


“Don’t worry! You get used to it! Dr. Hitsugaya still gets startled when he sees Dr. Kurotsuchi,” she smiled, picking up the patient’s chart. “Anyway, it’s rare that he comes out of his lab. Not many cases are interesting enough for him, so he says. I think it’s because Dr. Kuchiki has a better rapport with patients-- oh, are you okay? You look like you’re going to faint! I have a juice box, if you’d like one.”   
  


He was never going to mock his classmates again.  
  


As he followed the woman to the lab, he caught sight of Momo walking close to the heels of another doctor-- Aizen, wasn’t it? The girl was starstruck. The air of indifference that surrounded Aizen was strong enough to choke.  
  


“Dr. Hinamori,” he smiled, turning to the girl. “Please go do the post-op exams on my patients in 56-C and 73-D.”   
  


She smiled and nodded. “Absolutely, Dr. Aizen!”  
  


As soon as she was out of sight, Aizen let out a breath and looked down at the chart he’d put down on the nurse’s station desk. He signed a page before placing it in his stack and turned to Dr. Inoue and Dr. Hisagi.  
  


“Dr. Inoue, please go do my post-ops.”  
  


She looked confused. “But you’ve just asked Dr. Hinamori to do them?”   
  


“The girl is distracted and brainless. Please make sure she doesn’t kill anyone.”  
  


“B--”  
  


“Now, Dr. Inoue.”  
  


With no more than a pissed off grunt, Dr. Inoue stormed after Dr. Hinamori. Shuuhei watched, stunned, blood pressure rising.  
  


Aizen was smart enough to know what was going through the man’s mind. “I can guarantee that the other doctors double check your work,” he rolled his eyes. “Go back to whatever business you were assigned to.”  
  


Red clouded Hisagi’s vision. He’d heard, of course, how egotistical some doctors could be, but Aizen was in a whole different league. Dr. Hitsugaya was blunt. Dr. Kuchiki was cold. Dr. Ayasegawa was crude. But Dr. Aizen was a dick. Plain and simple.   
  


“Actually, sir, they trust us with simple tasks. It’s how our competency grows.”  
  


Aizen flipped the next chart closed.   
  


“No. Scut is how you learn. Finish what you were doing, then sign all of these charts, file lab results. Do not go near a patient.”  
  


Hisagi looked outraged. “I’m not on your service.”  
  


“You want Dr. Ishida to know you’re being insubordinate?” He raised his eyebrows. “Do as you’re told, intern.”   
  


It took every ounce of strength to not throttle the man. It wasn’t worth his career. 

 

* * *

 

Their relationship wasn’t a well-kept secret. That was no excuse for overt public displays of affection, however. It was only in the privacy of a dark on-call room that they came together on hospital property. Uryuu ran his hands over Ichigo’s shoulders, fingertips digging into the muscles. The other man was laid face-down on the bed in the on-call room, looking as content as a happy cat in the sun.   
  


“You know, the hospital should really provide massage service. We do hard work,” Ichigo purred, snuggling his face into the pillow he was clutching.  
  


Uryuu’s eyebrows rose. “You really want the hospital to provide this? You want a large, Swedish man named Sven doing this?” He ran his hand over Ichigo’s backside.  
  


“If he gets the knots out-- ow!” He laughed as Uryuu slapped his ass. “I mean, you do things they can’t,” he admitted, rolling onto his back with a wiggle of his eyebrows.  
  


“Don’t you have a surgery?”  
  


“Hip replacement in an hour. I’ve got time. What about you?”  
  


“Craniotomy in thirty.”  
  


Ichigo grinned, wiggling out of his scrub bottoms. “Sounds like we can squeeze this in.. you up for it? I am.”  
  


“I can see that,” Uryuu chuckled, kneeling on the floor and pulling Ichigo’s hips over the side of the bed. He reached out to hold Ichigo’s erection steady, and licked once up the side.  
  


Knock. Knock.  
  


“Shit,” Ichigo hissed. He held Uryuu’s head in place, however. “Who is it?”  
  


“Uh, Dr. Hisagi!” the reply came. The handle jiggled, but the door didn’t open.   
  


“What do you need?” Ichigo hissed as Uryuu took him into his mouth. Fucking tease.   
  


Hisagi hesitated. “Do you know where Dr. Ishida is? Dr. Aizen took me off Dr. Kurotsuchi’s service to do his busywork.”  
  


Uryuu rolled his eyes and shook his head. He didn’t answer-- his mouth was full.  
  


Ichigo clutched his lover’s hair. “That bastard,” he groaned. “Just.. wanna scrub in with me on my hip replacement in an hour?”  
  


“I-I’d love to!”  
  


“Great. Go away. I’m sleeping.”  
  


“Thank you so much, Dr. Kurosaki!”  
  


“Yeah..” His voice trailed off and his head rolled back. When he was sure that Hisagi wasn’t listening in anymore, he stroked Uryuu’s hair down and ran his fingertips over his cheek.  
  


“You’re fucking bad,” he laughed, hissing with pleasure.   
  


Uryuu pulled his mouth away. “I could stop.”  
  


“You wouldn’t dare.”

 

* * *

 

Dr. Otoribashi was everything that Izuru Kira had ever wanted in a teacher. He was calm, patient, gentle, and not at all creepy. He was Dr. Ichimaru’s opposite, in that regard. His approach to patient care was commendable, and he was very supportive of his learning.   
  


“Thank you for this opportunity, Dr. Otoribashi,” Dr. Kira smiled as they scrubbed in together, getting ready for a mitral valve replacement.   
  


“Oh, don’t thank me, Dr. Kira,” he waved, reaching for his guitar-covered scrub cap. It took two nurses to help, but all of his immense, curly blonde hair fit into the cap. “I am just a small component in your journey. You will learn from so many skilled doctors here. I have great hope for success in your future.”  
  


Izuru blushed as he started to clean under his fingernails.   
  


Conversation was easy in Dr. Otoribashi’s Operating Room. “Rose,” he corrected. “Otoribashi is such a long name, isn’t it? Please, call me Rose.”   
  


Dr. Ichimaru made him feel.. frozen. His presence chilled his heart. It was as addicting as it was terrifying. He’d never felt that before. Normal people would be deterred, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to the man. But Rose.. Rose was so different. He was warm. He was sincere. There was so little mystery. He’d been in the presence of the man for only a few hours, and he already felt safe and comfortable. Both were excellent, world-class Cardiothoracic Surgeons, but yet they were night and day. Rose was the sun. He was bright and straightforward. Gin was the moon, cold and unknown.  
  


“Dr. Kira?” Rose’s voice brought Izuru out of his thoughts.  
  


“Yes, sir?”  
  


“I don’t mean to presume, but would you like to accompany me to the Gala this Sunday?” he asked. “I haven’t had anyone to dance with at this event since my Residency. Mostly because my friends and colleagues don’t like to dance,” he chuckled.  
  


Izuru was taken aback. Really? So fast? It was a work-related function. It would be acceptable.. Expected, even.   
  


“...Yes. I would like that very much.”   
  


Rose smiled in relief. “Excellent. Do you mind going to update this patient’s family?” he asked. “He now has a wonderfully functional heart.”  
  


Izuru was floating on air as he made his way out of the OR. He threw out his mask, step light as he wandered off to the waiting room. Then, out of the darkness stepped an all-too-familiar figure.  
  


“Dr. Ichimaru! Aren’t you supposed to be doing a lung transplant?”  
  


Gin reached out to stroke Izuru’s cheek. “Now, Izuru, you know that there have to be lungs available for a transplant, and you know how hard they are to keep breathin’.. We couldn’t do the surgery today.”  
  


“..Oh.”   
  


He shifted awkwardly. Gin was, honestly, the last person that he wanted to see at that point in time. He felt like he was cheating on some… imaginary relationship they had. Sex wasn’t a relationship. Izuru was being silly.  
  


Gin ran his fingers over Izuru’s shoulders as he walked past.  
  


“See you at the Gala.”  
  


..Oh, shit.

 

* * *

 

“So you’re saying there’s no lungs?”  
  


Laid out in front of Rukia was Kaien Shiba. He was the sickest person she’d seen that was still breathing. See, Kaien had Cystic Fibrosis. Mucus clogged pretty much every internal system he had, from his intestines, to his pancreas, and especially his lungs. ‘A cesspool in yer chest,’ Dr. Ichimaru had called them. Most people with the disease didn’t reach their fortieth birthday. Kaien was thirty.   
  


Rukia grimaced. “No lungs. Sorry, Mr. Shiba.”  
  


He waved his hand. “Isn’t the first time I’ve come in to see The Snake without any benefit. Lungs expire faster than fish on a hot day.”   
  


It was too bad. Kaien had been dealing with broken lungs all of his life. He couldn’t have a snack without a handful of pills. He took pride in showing off the amount of mucus he’d coughed up. People like him, who suffered through life, were Rukia’s inspiration. They were why she’d decided to go to medical school.   
  


“So, what do we do next?” he asked, leaning back against the bed. She turned around and wheeled over a nebulizer machine.   
  


“How about we give this a try?”  
  


He groaned. “Let the puking commence.”   
  


Cases like Kaien’s were exhausting. There was nothing they could do. He wasn’t a child anymore. The bacteria thriving in his lungs were immune to pretty much every antibiotic on the planet. He was borderline diabetic, way too skinny, and couldn’t take the stairs if his life depended on it. He was racing the clock. Without new lungs, he was going to die.  
  


“Kuchiki. He likes you,” Dr. Ichimaru chirped, interrupting her from notating her patient’s chart. “He made the last intern cry. You’re stuck with Shiba until he dies or gets new lungs, whichever happens first.”  
  


Rukia was confused. They'd barely spoken, what gave him the impression that Shiba liked her? “..Yes, sir.” That wasn’t depressing at all. Oh well. He was just a patient, wasn’t he? If he got lungs, great. She’d get to scrub in on an amazing surgery. If not? Well.. there would be another one. There always was.

 

* * *

 

The rear driver’s side door to Shuuhei’s car slammed shut as Izuru dove in, halfway landing in Momo’s lap.   
  


“‘Bout damn time! Where were you?” Renji complained. “I’m scrubbing in on a craniectomy in the morning, I need my beauty sleep.”  
  


“...I’m sandwiched between two men,” Izuru muttered.  
  


“..Excuse me?” Shuuhei looked behind himself at Izuru.  
  


“I should go with Dr. Ichimaru, right?” Izuru fretted. “I mean, I’ve slept with him. But Dr. Otoribashi is so much nicer…”  
  


Shuuhei turned back around. “Are we really saying that Izuru has two dates and I don’t even have one?”  
  


“I have a date,” Renji volunteered.  
  


“Who?” Rukia and Momo asked in unison.  
  


Renji put his feet up on the dashboard. “It’s a surprise.”  
  


Momo waved her hand. “Don’t worry, Shuuhei. I’m sure it’s a very professional event. It doesn’t matter if you’re asked, you’ll get to dance with someone there!”   
  


Rukia raised her eyebrow at Momo. “...You don’t have a date, either, do you?”  
  


“It doesn’t matter.”  
  


Shuuhei turned back to Momo. “Wanna go with me?” he asked. She pointed at herself, making sure he was speaking to her, and nodded enthusiastically.   
  


Rukia’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Does everyone have a date except for me? No-- hey! Turn this car around, Shuuhei! We have to go back! This is bullshit!”


	5. Chapter 5

The morning was just as it always in. They wandered into the locker room at quarter to five. They drank their coffee, ate their breakfast, changed into their scrubs. Momo smiled cheerfully at her sleepy colleagues as she jammed her cute, knee-length blue dress into her locker. She was made for formal events. They were always romantic, always so mystical. Of course, she didn’t think that dancing with Shuuhei was going to be very romantic, but it was a start, right? At least she’d be able to gush over some of the, er, real couples.    
  


“Rukia! Where’s your dress?” Momo cried. Rukia was trudging into the locker room, coffee in-hand, grumpy as ever, still in her slippers.    
  


“I’m not going,” she asserted, digging her scrubs out of her locker. “I grew up a Kuchiki. Formal functions are terrible and bring back memories I’d rather not relive. I’m on Quick Response with.. Dr. Yamada, Dr. Schiffer, Dr. Yasutora, and Dr. Kurotsuchi,” she shrugged.    
  


Momo pouted. “But Rukia! It won’t be the same if you’re not there! What if you’re someone’s Cinderella?” She asked, hands on her chest.   
  


“Not like I’d want to date any of the doctors here.”   
  


“She’s just jealous,” Renji teased, further ruffling her bed head as he walked by, suit draped over his arm.    
  


“You haven’t told us who you’re going with,” Rukia insisted. “I think he’s faking having a date.”   
  


“I think he is, too,” Shuuhei deadpanned. “Who’d wanna date that ugly mu-- hey! Watch the hair!” Shuuhei smoothed his hand over his head following a swift slap from Renji.   
  


“Just you wait,” Renji shrugged.    
  


The door slammed open and Dr. Ishida stared at his interns. “Alright, kids. Let’s get this over with before the real torture begins.” He couldn’t help but crack a smile. “We’re doing pre-ops, post-ops, and monitoring today. Except for Dr. Hinamori. You’re with Dr. Hitsugaya in the ER. The Gala starts at six. If any of you, with the exception of Dr. Kuchiki, try to skip out, you will not see the inside of the OR for months. If I have to put on a show for the board, so do you.”   
  


Everyone muttered in agreement. Izuru, however, raised his hand meekly.   
  


“Yes, Dr. Kira?”   
  


“...If you had to pick dating Dr. Ichimaru or Dr. Otoribashi, who would you pick?”   
  


No answer came. All Uryuu was able to do was raise his brows. Part of him wanted to ask.. But he knew better. Years of being surrounded by the.. People in this hospital had taught him better.    
  


“Rounds are starting.”    
  


The five interns followed Dr. Ishida to a room that was familiar only to Rukia. The lights were already on. Kaien Shiba sat up in his bed as the doctors donned gowns and gloves. A bulky blue vest was strapped around his chest, vibrating violently while he sucked obediently on the mouthpiece of his morning inhaled antibiotic.    
  


“Morning, Dr. Ishida,” he grumbled, voice heavily distorted by the force of the vest’s vibration.   
  


“Good morning, Kaien,” he greeted, matching his patient’s lack of enthusiasm. “Dr. Kuchiki, care to present?”   
  


She nodded. “Kaien Shiba. Thirty. Mr. Shiba suffers from Cystic Fibrosis, a genetic condition which causes the overproduction of thick mucus that affects the pancreas, intestines, and especially the lungs.”    
  


Kaien interrupted her presentation with a coughing fit that rivaled that of most smokers. It ended with the production of a good tablespoon of mucus, which he spat into a cup and handed to Dr. Ishida.   
  


“...Charming,” Dr. Ishida gave a fake smile, placing the cup on a nearby table. “Anyone care to tell me why it’s a good thing that Mr. Shiba is hacking up disgusting amounts of mucu-- put your hand down, Kaien.”   
  


Renji spoke up. “Less mucus, more lung function? Less bacteria trapped in the lungs?”   
  


Uryuu nodded. “Excellent. Now, Mr. Shiba is awaiting a double lung transplant. We are trying to keep him in prime shape for such a procedure, but his kidney function and the infection he is fighting is making it quite difficult. Dr. Kuchiki, you’ll monitor him for the day, keep an ear out for UNOS?”   
  


Rukia winced as Kaien began another coughing fit, this time clutching a bedpan. “By his side, all day,” she agreed, trying not to respond to the sounds of retching.    
  


It was not a good time to be a sympathetic vomiter.

* * *

 

“Looks great, doesn’t it?” Dr. Urahara opened the door to the cafeteria. It had been closed for the Gala, and hosed down in streamers and balloons. “Silver and black. Classy and versatile, don’t you think?”    
  


Dr. Kurosaki’s brow shot up. “If you say so,” he muttered. “Wait, why are you overseeing decoration detail? That doesn’t seem like something that the Chief of Orthopedic Surgery would handle.”   
  


Grimmjow smirked. “Someone’s lining up for the shot is what’s happening. Yamamoto’s getting old. He thinks that if he puts on a good party for the Board, he’ll score Chief of Surgery points when Yamamoto finally gets put out to pasture, right?”   
  


“...In better words.”   
  


Grimmjow smirked in triumph. Ichigo looked confused.   
  


“You want to be Chief of Surgery? What about my Fellowship?” he demanded. Grimmjow seemed to realize where this was going.   
  


“Yeah! What about mine?”   
  


Urahara chuckled. “Easy, children. Yamamoto isn’t prepared to retire yet. There’s some life in him yet. I promised you two Fellowships, and you shall receive. You just have to learn to trust.”   
  


“Easier said than done,” Ichigo scoffed.   
  


The three of them went silent as the door swung open. Uryuu walked by casually, nose in the air as he approached Ichigo.   
  


“My tie is blue and white,” he stated, matter-of-fact. Ichigo looked confused.   
  


“Mine’s, uh.. Orange?”   
  


Uryuu looked offended. “Jeagerjaques. What color is your tie?”   
  


“Black and blue?”   
  


“Trade with him,” he insisted before turning and taking his leave.   
  


Ichigo was dumbfounded. Grimmjow was confused. Urahara was amused.    
  


“What just happened?”   
  


“I’m pretty sure you’re Ishida’s bitch,” Grimmjow offered. “You know, you two have been doing this for what, two years? Just make it official, shit. This pussyfooting around is just making you look weird. People get married in less time.”   
  


Urahara hummed in agreement. It was amusing, though, watching their relationship grow and change. It had started with a one-sided crush on Dr. Ishida’s part. Ichigo was notoriously dense. It wasn’t until Dr. Ishida had kissed him after a surgery did he even realize that he’d been making heart-eyes at him for months. They were awkward young men, but it was clear that they cared fiercely about one another.   
  


“So you think I should ask him to marry me?”   
  


The tone in Ichigo’s voice wiped the smiles off of Grimmjow and Urahara’s faces.    
  


“No?” Grimmjow grimaced. “You’re not even dating in the public eye. You can’t be fucking serious.”   
  


Ichigo wasn’t paying any attention. “Yeah.. thanks,” he said, far-away and distracted as he jogged out the door.   
  


“...Nice going, dumbass,” Urahara teased in sing-song.   
  


Grimmjow threw his hands up. “You know, it’s his fucking funeral. If he wants to commit relationship suicide, that’s his fault. Don’t give me that look. Sto-- oh, fuck you,” he sneered before taking off after Ichigo.    
  


Urahara whistled in innocence, shaking some balloons apart and adjusting a napkin on a table.    
  


This was going to be the best goddamned Gala ever. 

* * *

 

Sundown came and the lights went dim. Bodies filtered into the cafeteria, taking places at tables with their friends or their dates. Momo was the first of the interns at the party, looking hopeful and excited in her flouncy blue skirt and sensible black heels.    
  


“So they dragged you here, too?” Dr. Hitsugaya asked, filling a cup with punch.    
  


“Oh, nobody had to drag me, I love parties,” she smiled. He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.    
  


“This is the stuffiest party in the world.” He rolled his eyes. “Just look. Everyone’s just standing around. You’re here with Hisagi, right?” he asked, brows raised as he pointed out Shuuhei beelining to the oh-so-cool Dr. Muguruma to ask him about his approach to sports injuries. “It’s a business meeting set to music.”   
  


Momo huffed. That just wasn’t going to do. So she picked up her skirt and waddled in front of him. “Well, that’s no fun for anyone!” She held out her hand. “Would you like to dance?”    
  


Hitsugaya was dumbfounded. Before he could respond, she had taken his drink and set it on the table. She took him by the hand and pulled him close, giggling all the while.    
  


Renji looked like he was going to have a stroke. He was pacing outside the cafeteria doors, slightly sweaty, braid swaying erratically behind him.    
  


“What’s wrong, Abarai?” Dr. Kurosaki asked, brow raised. His arm was hooked around Dr. Ishida’s waist. “You look like you’re going to shit.”   
  


“Shut up,” he groaned. His eyes went wide as he caught sight of who he was waiting for. There were few sights more magnificent than Dr. Kuchiki in a suit. His hair was soft and shiny, held out of his face by expensive white, decorative hair clips. His tie, pure silk, they were sure, was simple and elegant. Dr. Ishida and Dr. Kurosaki shared a questioning look as, without a word, Dr. Kuchiki placed his hand in that of Dr. Abarai.   
  


“You look amazing,” Renji praised quietly. Dr. Kuchiki thanked him graciously as, together, they walked through the doors.   
  


“...Why are my Interns being seduced by Attendings?” Uryuu lamented. Ichigo just laughed and rubbed his waist.    
  


“Come on. Let’s dance.”   
  


If it were possible, Izuru would have disappeared into his cup of punch. Hell, if it had a little bit of rum in it, he might have stood a chance of surviving the night. There was still time, he could run.  He could just join Rukia in her attempt to hide using the patients as an excuse.  In fact, that was what he was going to do.  They always needed more doctors,  right?  Dr. Ishida be damned.    
  


…He didn't mean that; he actually liked Dr. Ishida a lot.   
  


Just before he could make his break, he caught sight of a massive amount of familiar blonde hair. At least it was Rose who found him first. Dr. Ichimaru surely would have kidnapped him right then and there.     
  


“There you are,” Rose smiled. “I was worried that you would be stuck in a surgery.” He offered Izuru his arm, who took it reluctantly. There was no doubt in his mind that the night was going to end with him fainting. He was already starting to hear his heartbeat in his head. But there was Rose’s hand, resting on his back and trying to vanish that anxiety.    
  


After glancing over his shoulder to make sure there was nobody following them, Izuru followed Rose into the lavishly decorated cafeteria. Everyone looked like they were having fun. Momo and Dr. Matsumoto appeared to be taking turns dancing with a vastly overwhelmed Dr. Hitsugaya. Renji appeared to be stepping on the infinitely patient Dr. Kuchiki’s feet. Shuuhei had realized that his date had been stolen by Dr. Hitsugaya, of all people, and had taken to sulking in a corner with Dr. Muguruma and Dr. Jeagerjaques. Izuru was going to be ambushed, he was sure, but he could enjoy the party until then.   
  


Well, at least everyone else was having a good time, though he had to wonder how Rukia was faring..  


* * *

If the board said one negative thing about this party, Urahara was going to kick an ass or two. Drink in hand, he watched on with pride as Dr. Ishida and Dr. Kurosaki slow danced. Dr. Hitsugaya was smiling as he managed to twirl Dr. Hinamori. Dr. Kuchiki was as hard to read as ever, but the fact that he was still allowing Dr. Abarai to share the same air as him was promising, Dr. Jeagerjaques was only moderately drunk. It was a good day.   
  


“Someone’s proud of himself.”   
  


Dr. Urahara smirked.   
  


“Why, what gave you that impression, Dr. Shihouin?”    
  


“I’ve never seen you smile at non-alcoholic punch,” she pointed out, then turned her gaze to Grimmjow. “..It is non-alcoholic, right?”   
  


“Yeah. He pre-gamed. The board has no idea, they just think he’s kissing ass.”   
  


She shrugged. “Something has to be in the punch. This is the best Gala we’ve had. I mean, just look at that. Ichimaru and Otoribashi are having some pissing contest over an intern. Kurosaki and Ishida aren’t at each other’s throats.. Kuchiki’s over there entertaining an intern’s shitty jokes, for crying out loud.”   
  


Urahara’s eyes sparkled. “I don’t think it’s the punch. I think it’s them, Yoruichi.”   
  


“Them?”   
  


He gestured to the group in front of them. “It’s the interns. They have a magic to them, don’t they?”   
  


Yoruichi hummed in reluctance, taking a sip of her drink.    
  


“I just can’t seem to figure out if it’s a charm or a curse,” he admitted.    
  


Yoruichi set her cup down and grabbed him by the hand. “Stop contemplating the lowlives and dance with me,” she ordered.    
  


Shuuhei sighed as even Dr. Urahara was dragged onto the dance floor. This sucked. His date had been stolen. Everybody else was taken. There was no alcohol in sight. Shuuhei Hisagi wasn’t one to ever chalk a party up as a failure, but this was a disaster. He should have taken a cue from Rukia and gone to look after patients. At least that would have won him points for dedication from the Attendings.    
  


“You look like someone ran over your puppy.”   
  


He recognized the voice immediately as Dr. Matsumoto’s. She smiled at him with a hint of pity. Normally, it would have pissed him off-- he didn’t need anyone’s pity. But Dr. Matsumoto was just so pretty that he was too distracted by her radiance to make any note of anything less than that.   
  


“Tough crowd,” he shrugged. “My date ran off with someone else.” He motioned to Momo and Dr. Hitsugaya.   
  


Rangiku couldn’t contain her chuckle. “I think it’s best to take that one for the team. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone make him so.. Slightly less murderous,” she winked. “Come on. I’ll dance with you, doctor..?”   
  


“Hisagi.” He offered his hand. He should have been offended. He was on her service for a week straight a while back-- she could have remembered his name! But this Gala was Shuuhei’s lesson in patience. 

* * *

 

Bored. That was how Rukia was faring. There wasn’t enough Facebook in the world to save her from her fate. She was sprawled out at the nurse’s station, bag of chips in one hand, phone in the other. Most of the other doctors were keeping closer to the Intensive Care Unit and the Emergency Room. She was the lucky one. She only had a handful of patients to monitor.    
  


And one of them was Kaien Shiba.   
  


“Hey!” he called from his room. His yell was weak-- what could be expected from a man with the lung capacity of a mouse? So, to get her attention, he tossed an M&M at her head.    
  


Good aim.   
  


“Hey!” came the reply. She walked over, arms crossed.   
  


Kaien removed the oxygen cannula from his nose. “What are you doing here? All of the other doctors are at some party.”   
  


“Not all of them,” she insisted. “Some of us have to take care of you.”   
  


He rolled his eyes. “You drew the short straw?”   
  


“Shut up!” she asserted. “I just don’t like dances, that’s all.”    
  


“Mmmhm.” Kaien sat back against his pillows. “You sure you’re not just lame?”   
  


She sat down on the bed. “Why would I want to be there, when I could watch you cough up mucus?”    
  


His brows raised in response, and she seemed to realize too late what she had said. Well, there was no taking it back. But before she could defend herself, her phone buzzed.. And her beautiful, brand new iPhone almost knew what it was like to come face-first with the hospital floor.   
  


“...My best friend is dancing with my brother,” she deadpanned.   
  


“No shit.”    
  


Rukia turned the phone to Kaien. On the screen was a picture sent by Shuuhei with the caption ‘Guess he wasn’t lying after all.’ Renji was leading Byakuya in the sloppiest Waltz she’d ever seen. She could see the grin trying to crack through Kaien’s stoic facade.   
  


“Don’t.”   
  


Smirk.   
  


“You’ll cough.”   
  


Smile.    
  


“If you cough, you’ll puke.”   
  


Grin.    
  


“It isn’t funny!”   
  


And that broke him. The laughing fit lasted three whole seconds before it turned into a coughing fit, but it was so worth it.    
  


“Sorry. That’s just so fucked up.”   
  


“You’re telling me!” she huffed, snatching her phone back.    
  


Kaien took a moment to look her over. He knew what was happening. Triumph in his eyes, he leaned his back against the bed and crossed his arms. She narrowed her eyes at his smug grin.    
  


“You’re jealous!”   
  


“Am not!”   
  


“Are you jealous of your brother, or your best friend, is the question.”   
  


“I have no desire to dance with my brother.”   
  


Kaien waved his hand. “No, but you want to dance. You’re just embarrassed that nobody asked you and you didn’t want to go alone.” He scooted so that his legs were hanging off the side of the bed. He got up slowly, holding the railing as he came to his feet. He plucked the phone out of her hands and scrolled through her iTunes. When an appropriate song was found, he placed the device, speaker-up on the table.    
  


Rukia glared. “Get back in bed, you’re sick.”   
  


“I’m not dead yet,” he pointed out, and started singing weakly along to the song. “Shut up and dance with me.”   
  


She sighed dramatically and put her hand in his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, wasn't that fun? :D
> 
> Take this as a fair warning-- the next chapter is intense!


End file.
